


sun shy

by sinshine



Category: Persona 5
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, idiots to boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 12:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinshine/pseuds/sinshine
Summary: Ryuji’s fight-or-flight kicked in right as Akira lifted Ryuji’s shirt and pressed a handful of crushed ice to the skin of his lower back.It was too hot in the attic for this kind of tomfoolery, but a blood price had to be paid. There was a flurry of movement, upsetting snacks and ice onto the floor and making the crates beneath the mattress groan. Their scuffling filled the attic with the sounds of laughter and inarticulate yelling as more ice was thrown. Eventually, Ryuji was able to knock Akira onto the mattress and pin down his terrible, devious, cold hands.“I will go down with this ship!” Akira cried out, trying not to laugh. He strained against the hold on his wrists, his lithe body shifting beneath Ryuji’s.





	sun shy

Ryuji had always known that he liked Akira in a way that was different from how he liked the other Phantom Thieves. It became something he couldn’t ignore when the feeling started to manifest itself in ways that were sometimes uncomfortable and often inconvenient. Even though Ryuji was able to recognize the signs of a crush, he didn’t know how to prevent all the side effects that came with one; the quickened heartbeat, the blushing, the fucking-up-everything-you-say.

Accustomed to wearing his heart on his sleeve, Ryuji’s initial impulse was to just come out and tell Akira how he felt, but receiving a steady stream of rejection over the past year had worn him down. Rejected by the track team, his father, even the teachers and the rest of the school-- No more.

This time was going to be different. This time he was going to keep his stupid mouth shut about his stupid feelings and he definitely wasn’t going to make anything weird. _Emotionally_ weird, anyway. The Metaverse already made up 120% of the other weirdness in his life.

(Wait, was that how percentages worked?)

Anyway, Ryuji still sent texts at all hours of the day and he still invited Akira to hang out after school and on weekends, but that was just friend stuff. Because Akira was lonely too, right? Wasn’t that why he went out of his way to befriend so many people? (So many weirdass adults! What was _that_ about?) And he didn’t seem to mind that Ryuji would sometimes text at two in the morning or sometimes call because he was feeling anxious and wanted to hear Akira’s voice. As long as he didn’t already have plans, Akira accepted every invitation that Ryuji sent his way. By the time summer vacation rolled around, they were spending every free moment together.

 _It’s not weird that we’re hanging out so much,_ Ryuji reassured himself during his and Akira’s fourth consecutive day together. _At school we see each other six days a week. So we’re actually seeing each other_ less _now._

Ryuji chose not to think too deeply about the math involved in that statement. He sat up from where he had been lying on the attic floor, having collapsed there after they finally beat Star Forneus. Akira was crouched in front of the table, examining a small stack of loose CDs.

“Man, haven’t we watched all your movies? We could go to Shibuya and see somethin’. Or hit the arcade.”

Akira shrugged in a lethargic sort of way. Ryuji took that to mean he thought it was too hot to venture outside the cafe.

“I have one left.” Akira held up one of the loose DVDs and Ryuji narrowed his eyes suspiciously at its intense pink font.

“ _Beach Hearts Parade_? Isn’t that, like, a drama-romance thing?”

“This is the new season. I borrowed it from a classmate back in February, but due to personal reasons I haven’t watched it yet.”

“Personal reasons?” A slow grin was spreading on Ryuji’s face.

“Yup.”

“Is that what you call movin’ to Tokyo and bein’ leader to a gang of delinquents?”

“That’s personal, you can’t ask me that.” Akira grinned back at him.

Ryuji laughed and clapped him on the back. “Alright, dude. Show me the beach party! But I ain’t promisin’ I won’t fall asleep.”

Akira laughed, his eyes filled with genuine mirth. “Fall asleep? While in front of you Ai-chan is pushed to choose between the growing relationship with her mentor’s son and the reappearance of her childhood friend with a dark secret of his own?”

“Uh-”

“While she also struggles to keep her place at the top of her class in medical school, a world dominated by entitled men? Not to mention her self-proclaimed rival, Himeko, who grows more duplicitous-”

Ryuji pretended to snore and Akira swatted at him, but he wasn’t quick enough and Ryuji leaned out of range with a cocky grin. Akira sighed something about how kids today just don’t understand good TV and popped the disc into the player.

They agreed without words to move onto the bed since they were both stiff from sitting on the floor. The air here wasn’t as cool as it was on the floor, but there was a breeze coming in through the window that made lying on the sun-warmed mattress feel nice despite the heat. Ryuji stretched out on his stomach, resting his chin on folded arms. He wished that he were at the beach and, in a rare moment of self-awareness, realized that watching a show about other people having fun at the beach might annoy him since he couldn’t be there himself.

It was too late to turn back. The opening theme was starting and Akira sat at the edge of the bed next to Ryuji, humming off-key and kicking his legs along to the beat of the music. Ryuji hid his smile behind his arms and thought about how deceptively quiet Akira had been when they first met. He couldn’t really explain it, but there was something exciting about watching Akira unfold from his shell, becoming more himself day by day.

For the first ten minutes, Ryuji paid more attention to Akira than the TV, but then there was a scene with a car chase. The heroine- a dark-haired young woman wearing a white lab coat over a black catsuit that Ryuji thought was _very_ flattering- lead the way on a stolen motorcycle, expertly winding her way through the crowded Tokyo streets as a young man clung terrified to her waist.

“Assassins are after her mentor’s son,” Akira explained. His eyes were glued to the screen as the heroine narrowly sped past a delivery van, successfully baiting her pursuers into a collision.

“What? Why? Aren’t they med students?”

“All excellent questions! You’re getting it!” Akira ruffled Ryuji’s hair and laughed when he received a swat in return. He leaned over the bed and retrieved their open bags of snacks from the floor, passing the last of the beef jerky to Ryuji. Most of the snacks were Ryuji’s anyway (“I’m too hot to eat.” “...said literally no one ever.” “No. I said it just now.” “ _Dude_.”) and Akira was instead nibbling on crushed ice from a large, plastic cup emblazoned with the BigBang logo.

Three episodes in, Ryuji still had no idea what was going on. There was a missing sister who might have faked her death to follow her dream of becoming a pastry chef. There was also a rekindling relationship with a senpai who had fallen out of touch after graduating, but somehow had gotten involved with the yakuza? Ryuji tried to ask Akira questions but his answers were mostly vague and sometimes too confusing. Even more confusing was the fact that the entire show seemed to take place in metropolitan Tokyo.

“Where’s the freakin’ beach? They’ve been in the city this whole time!” Ryuji felt as though he had missed out on an afternoon filled with slow panning shots of swimsuit-wearing babes... although that, apparently, hadn’t even been an option to begin with! He stuffed a handful of potato sticks into his mouth and crunched on them with righteous fury.

“The beach is in _here_ ,” Akira said meaningfully while patting his hand on the left side of Ryuji’s back in an approximation of where his heart was. And, casually, he let his hand slide towards Ryuji’s spine and left it resting between his shoulder blades.

Ryuji’s stomach flip-flopped and he wondered if eating while lovesick could make you actually sick. He toughed it out and they watched Ai-chan’s senpai make an unexpected romantic gesture by bringing her a homemade bento during one of her long overnight shifts at the hospital.

“So, she’s going to date the senpai now?”

“No way!” Akira stuck his hand into a chip bag that Ryuji held open. “He’s just a red herring. I’m pretty sure she’s aiming to end up with the mentor’s son.”

“Yeah, he’s in like _way_ more plot than the other guys.”

“Right? I wish she would date the childhood friend.”

“That asshole?” Ryuji scoffed and Akira gasped in shock and outrage. “Didn’t he ghost her for five years or somethin’ crazy? Dude had his chance and blew it.”

“He was going through a _trauma!_ ” Akira asserted, his expression conveying that he had never been more affronted in his sixteen years of life than at this very moment. “They have a _history!_ ”

“That history is why they shouldn’t be together! And...he has _bad hair_.” Ryuji tried not to grin too widely. The childhood friend had long, loose black curls that hung in his face, making him appear charmingly disheveled.

Akira was quiet. Too quiet.

Ryuji’s fight-or-flight kicked in right as Akira lifted Ryuji’s shirt and pressed a handful of crushed ice to the skin of his lower back.

It was too hot in the attic for this kind of tomfoolery, but a blood price had to be paid. There was a flurry of movement, upsetting snacks and ice onto the floor and making the crates beneath the mattress groan. Their scuffling filled the attic with the sounds of laughter and inarticulate yelling as more ice was thrown. Eventually, Ryuji was able to knock Akira onto the mattress and pin down his terrible, devious, cold hands.

“I will go down with this ship!” Akira cried out, trying not to laugh. He strained against the hold on his wrists, his lithe body shifting beneath Ryuji’s.

Part of Ryuji was feeling pretty smug about having gotten the upper hand and wanted to goad Akira further. The other, more urgent part of him was extremely concerned about where ‘further’ was located since he was already lying half on top of Akira. Ryuji did a quick check on the proximity of their hips, decided that it was very un-platonic, and rolled off of Akira.

They lied next to each other in silence as they caught their breath. The heat made them tire quickly and Ryuji felt hyperaware of the place where their upper arms pressed together, warmer still.

“Anyway,” Ryuji said, worried that maybe he was thinking too much and saying too little, “I guess it’s a cool show- with all the fight scenes and weird fucking plot stuff- but the romance is real annoying, innit? Like, why have all these other guys around when they’re obviously pushing for that one dude to be endgame?”

“I thought you loved a harem.” Akira chuckled and Ryuji was tempted to push him off the bed.

“Not gonna lie, Ai-chan is super hot so it’s totally realistic that there’re, like, five guys on her radar. I’m just sayin’, why do you like a show where no one can figure their shit out? Ain’t people doin’ enough of that in real life?”

“Art imitates life.” Akira shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I like that all of the characters are human disasters. The missed communication and back-and-forth is fun.”

“Is it?” Ryuji frowned. “If Ai-chan would just get off her freakin’ ass and pick a boyfriend, then she wouldn’t hafta freak out about pickin’ a date to Himeko’s dinner party.”

“True, but-”

“It’d be a better show if the main characters were like an already pre-established romantic thing-”

“A couple.”

“-if they were a couple who went on adventures together. An’ without all that harem crap, the fight scenes could be longer! Plus, instead of all Ai-chan’s awkward almost-dates, there would be more makin’ out.”

Akira stared at him, his face flat and inscrutable, and Ryuji began to panic because what if he had done the opposite now and said too much and thought too little? But then, Akira’s eyes crinkled and he laughed.

“That would be a pretty good show,” Akira agreed, moving his arm from between them and rolling onto his side towards Ryuji. He propped his head up with his hand, looking down at Ryuji’s face. “I didn’t think you felt so strongly about it. I’m glad.”

Ryuji couldn’t not think about how Akira leaned into him, letting his body press into Ryuji’s side and sticking his stupid, sexy hips back in non-platonic proximity. He could see at the edge of his vision that Akira’s shirt had ridden up almost to his waist, but he didn’t dare look and let Akira catch him looking at him like that. Ryuji’s eyes tracked a drop of water on Akira’s temple- either sweat or melted ice- as it traced its way over his cheekbones and down to his jaw. Akira’s smile was something mischievous and secret and Ryuji felt himself _ache,_ he wanted to _touch_ \-- “Well, uh, y’know. I’m all about makin’ out with hot girls!”

Akira’s smile vanished.

Ryuji wanted to die.

He didn’t fight Akira when he upended the ice cup over Ryuji’s chest, dropping the last bit of icy slush and meltwater onto him.

“I’m going to get more ice,” Akira announced as he got up from the bed, taking the now empty cup downstairs with him.

After Akira was out of sight, Ryuji sighed and flicked the last few pieces of unmelted ice off his shirt. There was a damp spot there, cold and clinging to his skin, but he didn’t feel motivated to do anything about it. Ryuji crossed his arms over his face and hoped that his groan of utter self-loathing wouldn’t be heard over _Beach Hearts Parade_ still playing on the TV.

_Congratulations, Ryuji! You can’t control your fucking mouth! Ohgod, am I gonna ruin everything without even confessing?!_

Ryuji’s chest tightened at the idea of losing Akira. He decided that apologizing was the safest course of action, but then he couldn’t figure out _what_ he should be apologizing for. Ryuji knew that he had ruined… something. He knew he had said something wrong, but what would have been the right thing to say? What should he have said to Akira, _smiling_ like that, leaning closer to Ryuji, raising his hand to- to what? Did he want to touch him? Well, surely not after Ryuji opened his big, stupid mouth and started blabbing about kissing girls while he had the most beautiful boy in Shujin practically draped over him and-- ohmygod, Akira liked him.

_No way._

Akira _liked_ him.

_No fucking way._

“Ryuji.”

Ryuji yelped and sat bolt upright. Akira pulled his head back just in time to avoid a collision and Ryuji realized he had been so focused on the idea of _Akira liking him in a non-platonic way ohmygod_ that he’d missed Akira coming back upstairs and sitting down next to him.

“Here.” Akira passed to Ryuji, one-handed, a wad of napkins and a cellophane-wrapped strawberry mochi ice cream. His other hand was preoccupied with holding his own ice cream, which he’d already taken a bite of.

“Thanks.” Ryuji put the wrapper between his teeth and purposely maintained uncomfortable eye contact with Akira as he awkwardly stuffed the napkins down the front of his shirt, forming a barrier between the damp spot and his chest.

Akira laughed and turned away, holding the mochi in front of his mouth to hide his lingering smile. Ryuji wondered, if he hadn’t been looking for it, if he would have noticed how Akira’s ears flushed red.

“Good thing you think the back-n-forth is fun,” Ryuji said with a surprising amount of coyness. He pretended to be focused on tearing the ice cream open, but from the corner of his eye he saw Akira visibly twitch.

 _What the fuck, why_ _did I_ _say that! He has a whole goddamn cup of ice now!_ _Akira is go_ _nna_ _kill me and I!_ _am!_ _going!_ _to!_ _DIE_ _!_ _Fuck, he’s so hot. He’s got no business being_ _that_ _hot._ _I’d let Akira step-- DAMNIT_ _, focus_ _!_

Akira went quiet again as he he finished his ice cream. He stared at a spot somewhere low on the opposite wall and sucked the last of the sugar from the pads of his fingers. Ryuji felt guilty about the way he was drawn to watching Akira’s lips glide over his fingers, but not guilty enough to stop. Then Akira finished and turned towards Ryuji, who immediately crammed the entire mochi into his mouth in an attempt to look preoccupied.

“Ryuji?”

“Hm?” Ryuji’s eyes watered. His head was filled with both very frozen ice cream and an immense amount of regret.

Akira’s gaze was somewhere around Ryuji’s collarbones. He tugged on one of the dark curls that hung in his face and a blush rose in his cheeks. “I like you. A lot.”

Ryuji choked but didn’t want to spit out the ice cream. He tried to cough around it while also trying to get it to melt as quickly as possible so that he- could just- just _swallow_ it, _finally!_ Akira pat him on the back and did his best not to laugh while Ryuji hacked and coughed.

“J-Just like that?” Ryuji gasped raggedly several minutes later, red-faced and watery-eyed. His stomach was very, very cold.

“Just like that.” Akira smiled and rubbed circles over Ryuji’s back. “You were right. I didn’t want to endure the back and forth.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ryuji despaired, throwing his hands over his face. “I know, I’m a dumbass! _Shit_ , dude. Akira, I like you _so_ much and I’m so-”

“What? No.”

Ryuji felt Akira’s long fingers wrap around his wrists and gently tug his hands down. When he opened his eyes, he was alarmed to find Akira’s face very close to his own, wearing a smile so sharp that it was impossible not to think of Joker.

“I wanted to skip ahead to the ‘making out’ part,” Akira said lowly, with a glance down at Ryuji’s mouth.

If Ryuji had been able to use his voice at that moment, he would have protested how unfair it was that it took so little for Akira to unravel him. Even now, as Akira’s eyes lifted back to Ryuji’s, he found himself transfixed by the small details in his graceful features; the long sweep of his dark lashes, the flecks of almost-blue in his eyes, a red mark on Akira’s lip where he had chewed on it, the press of Akira’s fingers into his wrists, his lips parting, coming closer and-

oh

_Oh._

Either Akira had been a lot more successful than Ryuji at practicing on his hand, or this was not Akira’s first kiss. Not that Ryuji minded, since he was getting to reap the benefits either way but, _oh fuck_ , was Akira just naturally good at anything he wanted to be good at? That was, _ah_ , super unfair but _so good_.

“Ryuji?” Akira kissed him once more, his hands cradling Ryuji’s face.

“Yeah?” Ryuji was feeling light-headed and kind of giddy. He smiled, a little lopsided, and nuzzled into Akira’s palm.

But Akira was merciless and he bat his eyes at Ryuji as he whispered, “Are you still accepting hot girl applications?” He expected Ryuji to flail, to shout, to tackle Akira onto the mattress again. Instead, Ryuji drew back a little and his blush spread, turning the top of his chest scarlet to match his face and ears.

“Actually, I’m accepting boyfriend applications. If- If that’s alright with you,” Ryuji whispered back, his eyes searching Akira’s. His hands tensed and flexed where they rested on Akira’s waist.

Akira felt his heart clench and he drew Ryuji, who eagerly followed his touch, into another long kiss. Ryuji was able to catch his breath this time and he kissed Akira back, mirroring his soft but deliberate touches. Akira continued to press kisses to the corners of Ryuji’s smile, his nose, across his cheeks.

“ _Ah_ , Akira,” Ryuji whined, still smiling. “I’m _serious_.”

Akira kissed Ryuji’s teeth and watched him sputter. “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend. Shared adventures plus making out sounds pretty good to me. Besides, my place is next to you, right?”

“It sounds more embarrassing when you say it,” Ryuji mumbled, looking ferociously pleased.

“It’s embarrassing regardless of who says it. Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Corny bastard.”

“I cultivated this cornfield just for you, babe.” Akira laughed as Ryuji groaned. “Speaking of corn, are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner.”

“For corn?”

“For whatever.”

They decided on ramen and, after Ryuji borrowed a dry shirt from Akira, they hurried downstairs and out of the cafe. Ryuji purposely avoided eye contact with Sojiro, but heard him mutter something he didn’t catch, followed by Akira’s quiet laughter and a promise not to be out too late. They ran through the streets to the station, Ryuji leading the way and Akira chasing the pull of their clasped hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm new to P5 and this is my first fic for the fandom. :] Follow me on tumblr or twitter @sinshiney


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